


Set my Alarm, Turn on my Charm

by Werelibrarian



Series: Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy [2]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: M/M, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 13:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16934328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Werelibrarian/pseuds/Werelibrarian
Summary: Deleted scenes from Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy





	Set my Alarm, Turn on my Charm

**Author's Note:**

> This has existed on Tumblr for a long time, but I'm migrating it to Ao3 for deletion reasons.

**(Where Matt goes to whine at Claire)**

"With prose as purple as yours, you should write for Cosmo," Claire says drily when he's done. Matt glares as best he can; this from the woman who asked what broken ribs sounded like. It's not his fault that everyday words are too shallow to describe what he can detect. The artistry of perfume. The undimmable heat of the human body. Foggy, Matt's other heart beating.

"Foggy's a good looking guy. I'm sure you figured that out in your own way. So yes, maybe he is dressing up to impress someone, maybe he isn't. There's only one way to find out."

"Yeah, I know."

"And I don't mean listening from his fire escape!"

"Oh."

"Matt, just ask him."

"But what if he is?"

She sighs again. "Then that'll suck, but you'll know for sure. And you can decide to tell him how you feel. Or not." This isn't what Matt wants to hear.

Could it be someone new, someone like Dennis from City Hall? Someone Foggy's trying to impress with rich, flashy clothing. Matt doesn't like them already–if they don't appreciate Foggy in his ratty gym shorts with his hair in a mess as much as when he's dressed head to toe in fine wool and smelling of roses, then they don't know him at all, and they aren't worth impressing.

He's not sure how this thought changes his face, but Claire puts down her spoon and asks, "You really think attacking his relationship with someone else is going to do good things for yours?"

"Foggy should be loved for who he is, not what he wears," Matt grits out.

"I agree. But you don't know what he's got going on, and you won't until you talk to him."

"But–"

Claire sighs again. She clicks off the flame under the pot and puts her hands on his shoulders. "If it all goes pear shaped, I have chocolate ice-cream in the freezer. But you're not bleeding, and it's my day off, so get out of here before I jam something up your nose."

"If you do that, and I start bleeding, can I stay?"

Matt jumps out the window, snickering, when she comes at him with a scotch bonnet in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

 

**(Where Foggy goes back to Barney's before an actual first date)**

"Drummond!" Foggy says, out of breath.

"Mr. Nelson!"

"Drummond, is there any chance you're into men?"

The old shopkeeper's face goes very judgemental. "I'm in a relationship."

Foggy flaps his hands. "No, that's not what I mean."He presses his fist to his teeth, desperate and embarrassed. His words come out in a rush. "I think I might need help because there's this guy–"

Drummond nods, smartly. "I completely understand. Lads?"He beckons over two young, cute ( _holy shit so cute!_ ) assistants. "Ben, Theo, this is Mr. Nelson, and we have a code indigo situation."

The lads nod gravely.

"What's a code indigo?" Foggy yelps as one of the assistants, Theo, who bears an upsetting resemblance to Aldis Hodge, takes his elbow and strolls him out of menswear.

"A first date scenario."

"Look, I don't have the cash to–"

"Don't worry, Drummond isn't going to Pretty Woman you. But starting here is definitely going to help in terms of confidence."

They're in the underwear department.

"Oh. Oh god."

***

Drummond looks over his choice approvingly. "Now, may I ask whether the gentleman in question has a sight impairment?"

"What? How did you know that?" Foggy says, still dazed from the forced march down aisles of silk boxers and bikinis.

"You handled everything with your eyes shut, and you didn't seem to care that much about colour."

"Oh. Yeah. He's blind."

"Lads?" Ben and Theo put on thinking faces.

"The shirt you bought last time, his favourite sweater of yours, and a new pair of Italian wool trousers," suggests Ben.

"Last time's shirt, your softest jeans, and I'd like to try some waistcoats on you. Something in a wool silk slub," counters Theo. "How do you feel about bow-ties?"

Foggy mutters, "I'm not a Mumford or one of his sons."

 

**(Sometime during the flirty conversation in Chapter 4)**

"But you can hear my heart."

"That doesn't mean I always understand what I'm hearing. You remember when I used to run into your room thinking you were in trouble?"

"Yeah, whenever I was transferring the rent. I remember that being freaky." Foggy pauses, and bursts out laughing. "Wait, really? My heart used to pound whenever I saw my account balance and you thought I was dying. Oh, Matt." 

Foggy hauls him in for a hug, and Matt sighs deeply, fizzing with contentment. They were being friends, then for a few minutes they were somewhere else, and then they went back to being friends. Matt could choose to feel cheated, but what's the point, when Foggy's chest is so broad and his hands are so gentle on Matt's neck.

 

**(An offramp to a much kinkier fic, cut out of Chapter 5)**

Matt tackles Foggy onto his back and shoves his cloth-covered erection against Foggy's bare one. "Actually, I think we should have a long talk about me in panties."

"Oh, you bastard," Foggy whimpers. His hips jerk up and down erratically.

"Red silk? Or what do you think, black–with ties on the side."

"Lace," Foggy pants, squeezing handfuls of Matt's ass, "lace all over, so they leave marks on the backs of my thighs."

"Back of your–" Matt doesn't understand.

"When you tuck the waistband under your cock and fuck me wearing them."

Time stops. Matt's head feels like a punctured balloon, flying around the rafters. It's too clear, too perfect in his mind. Foggy's ankles slung over Matt's shoulders, his toes curling as Matt sinks deep into him. The lace chafing Foggy's skin into a glowing pink warmth with every thrust, crushed between them as they move like they were made to be together.

The world tips crazily and suddenly Matt's pinned to the bed and his underwear is sailing over Foggy's shoulder.

"That was underhanded," he huffs.

"You're the noble superhero. I'm a sleazy defence lawyer." And Matt would do something about the smugness in Foggy's voice, but he grinds down again, bare this time. "Feel good?"

"Feels good,"Matt moans.


End file.
